


If It Ain't Broken, Fix It

by DenialSubroutine



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Ignoct Secret Santa, M/M, No Beta, brief mention of LuNyx, it's a mess, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenialSubroutine/pseuds/DenialSubroutine
Summary: Noctis overhears a conversation about a possible marriage of convenience. He overreacts.





	If It Ain't Broken, Fix It

**Author's Note:**

> For daskerlizard <3\. Merry Christmas, dear!  
> I hope my english is halfway passable. At least I tried.

_And we can see a world that is milk and honey_  
_The tapestry of life as a beautiful journey_  
_There's always a promise of a silver lining_  
_There's that elation of perfect timing_  
_In a perfect world_  
  
\- Poets of the Fall  


Noctis is screwed.

He is so utterly irrevocably _screwed_. 

It's Friday evening and Noctis is on his way home when he accidentally overhears a conversation in an almost empty hallway of the Citadel. Two council members whose names he doesn't bother learning (he has Ignis for that, thank you very much) are in the middle of a heated discussion and his name comes up. Noctis is generally not a very curious person and talks about the prince are not exactly news at the Citadel, so there's no reason for perking up his ears or holding his breath. He's blaming it on weariness from having been working hard all day long (because Ignis is secretly an evil person who wants him to die of exhaustion), and being in on some princely gossip from time to time isn't exactly beneath him, so he decides to eavesdrop. 

At first it's nothing more than broken sentences that do not make any sense and what does it have to do with the prince anyway? And then-- he can't believe his royal ears.

He'll never admit it, but Noctis sort of blacks out. He finds himself standing right there rooted to the spot an unknown amount of time later, the two councilmen long gone, dumbfounded and overwhelmed until he's finally able to pull himself together. He's buzzing with nervous energy, heart pounding in his ribcage, life flashing right before his eyes. 

He doesn't know how but he manages to snap out of it, though it takes a valiant effort to clear his head and start thinking straight. Freedom is nothing more than an illusion he was stupid enough to believe in. One thing you don't know you're supposed to cherish until it's being ripped out of your cold stiff hands. But he decides right then and there, he's going to fight for it if it's the last he does.

Noctis believes himself to be strong and determined. He faces terrifying creatures all over Eos like it's a trifle and manages to get away unscathed every damn time (if you don't count a couple of phoenix feathers to bring him back from the dead, but it's nobody's business), and this here is what honestly scares him most.

 _Ignis would know what to do_ , he thinks on instinct. He probably should be alarmed about that thought, seeking his friend's guidance in any debatable situation. But Ignis always does, that's literally his job. So Noctis hastily checks his watch, it's 6:15pm and thankfully his future advisor is a man with no personal life whatsoever, so with no further ado the prince runs straight for his office.

It's on his way there that an excellent idea strikes him hard. And it seems like a perfect solution no questions asked, and if Noctis were a more sensible and considerate person, he might've weighed the pros and cons before diving head in first. But he's overwhelmed by the flood of emotions, still a little dizzy, a little shaken and anxious that he might be running out of time.

He finds Ignis scribbling something furiously when Noctis knocks softly at his door and without waiting for a response lets himself in. He shuffles around awkwardly unsure of what to do with himself. On second thought he shouldn't have barged in like that, now that he thinks about it. And though it's a positively brilliant idea (if he says so himself), he should've figured out a plan beforehand on how to lure the other man in.

„You need something?“ Ignis inquires not looking up from his papers. 

_Can you be my fake-boyfriend?_ How do you ask _that_ of your friend? „Yes,“ he admits uncertainly, rubbing his neck. It's not a brilliant idea, it's an absolutely dumb idea and Noctis should just excuse himself, turn around and leave. He bets his chamberlain wouldn't even notice anyway. But then he has no other choice and humiliating himself is still a better option than the alternative one, he decides. So direct approach it is. “I need a favour, Ignis.” If only the ground could swallow him up. “I need a fake-boyfriend, I was hoping you could help me out.“

At first the other man doesn't react at all, and Noctis deliberates whether he should repeat his request or simply run away and pretend the whole one-sided conversation has never happened in the first place. He could probably make Ignis believe he's hallucinated the whole thing by having consumed too much Ebony. But then the man stops writing and fixes him with a stare, mouth slightly open, then closes it abruptly with a click. Just the reaction one would be expecting. “I beg you pardon, Highness?” At least he isn't at loss for words, but then again it's Ignis, ever so eloquent.

“I asked you to fake-date me,“ he repeats himself, staring at the floor. It's squeaky-clean, and the tiles make up a fascinating mosaic as it seems. Has it always been like that? He dares a glimpse at his chamberlain.

Ignis narrows his eyes behind the glasses. „I heard that. Care to elaborate?“

Noctis shrugs nonchalantly. „They want to marry me off to some Tenebraen royalty. Something about possible alliance and-- a country is not strong if its king doesn't have a queen by his side. I can't do that, I don't want to do that!“ Standing still is suddenly a hardship and he starts fidgeting.

Ignis nods silently, seemingly mulling over the next thing to say. And Noctis prays it's not a straightforward refusal, because he still has a couple of arguments up his sleeve and he's not above bribery if it comes to that.

“Those are just talks,” Ignis says after a moment of silence. He pops two top buttons of his dress-shirt open and runs a hand through his already dishevelled hair. „And His Majesty will never agree to that anyway.“

„You knew?“ It hits Noctis with full force all of a sudden, indignation and disappointment, and he can hardly control himself. But of course his future advisor knew, Ignis is a member of the council after all. „You knew and didn't tell me,” he almost yells. He doesn't have a right to be as angry about it as he leads on, but it suddenly feels good to give in to frustration.

The other man huffs and gets up to make himself a coffee. And then he demonstrably turns his back to the prince. Noctis hates when he does that, leaving him to just hang there with his anger on hold. And then Ignis takes his sweet time stirring his cup like they're having a friendly tea-party, before he says, „There is nothing to tell, Highness--“

„Cut the Highness-crap, Specs!“ Ignis flinches. Noctis needs to calm the hell down if he still wants his future advisor to help him out, but trust is a thing that goes both ways and he feels utterly betrayed. „We are friends, you should have told me,“ he adds in a more reserved tone. First things first, they can do the explaining and apologizing later.

„As I was saying, those are just talks. I wouldn't pay no mind to it.“

„What if they are not? What would I do then? I can't risk it. Please.“ Noctis strides forward till he's right in Ignis' personal space, chin up, blue eyes meeting green. He isn't too proud to beg if the need arises. So he grabs Ignis' wrist and hopes his hand isn't too clammy and disgusting, pouring his heart and soul into the touch. The prospect of being deprived of a chance to fall in love, even if it's not for ever, even if it's a fleeting feeling that's doomed to pass, frightens him unconditionally. Noctis strokes his friend's wrist and prays that he understands. „Please be my boyfriend, Specs.“

Ignis has a half-smile on his face, looking at him from under his glasses, little glint in his eye like he's about to say something witty. „Oh my, I didn't know you were such a romantic.“

„You know what I mean,“ Noctis laughs casually, his cheeks feeling warm, letting his arm fall to his side, and takes a step back.

„Why didn't you ask Prompto?“

Prompto's his best friend, it'd be so weird. And then his imagination conjures up a picture of leaning in for a soft peck on the lips, Noctis' hand twisted in gelled blond hair. And it's like kissing his brother (though he doesn't have one, but it's a close thing), not appealing in the slightest. He scrunches up his nose and fiercely shakes his head to rid himself of the image. “No way!“ Noctis exclaims.

His chamberlain gazes at him curiously. „Gladiolus?“

It's even worse. The shield would never agree to it. And even if he would, he'd be the worst boyfriend ever, ordering him around and making him do things. „Hell no.“ Now he has two images to erase, thank you Ignis, who's now looking at him with an amused smile, no doubt basking in his prince's embarrassment. He has the worst friends, seriously.

„Even if I agreed to help you out, I can't. I am a member of the council, remember?“ Ignis says, and if the prince didn't know better, he'd say it sounded wistful. „It would be suspicious if we started dating right after the marriage discussion I was a part of. No one would believe us anyway.“

He has a point, Noctis gives him that. So if he wants it to look genuine, they need to make everyone believe they're in love. „Okay, step one: we need to fake-fall-in-love first.“ Now that he says it out loud, he suddenly feels boyish. Ignis clearly has more pressing matters, and if a huge pile of papers on his desk and five empty Ebony cans are anything to go by, he is in over his head. And Noctis just stumbles in with his silly requests and demands his immediate attention.

But his chamberlain isn't shoving him out the door in an unceremonious and humiliating way, so he still counts it as a win. „How do you suggest we do that?“ Ignis asks and takes a sip from his cup.

„Don't sweat, I'll come up with a plan.“

The other man just rolls his yes. „That's what I'm worried about.“

And if Noctis' fate wasn't at stake here, he'd stick his tongue out at him (earning himself a long lecture on ethics and etiquette rules). But he needs to suck it up to his future advisor, so he opts for glaring instead. Ignis doesn't look impressed, like that's ever worked on him anyway. Just picks up his pen and focuses his attention on whatever he was doing earlier. “You owe me, by the way.“

„So, it's a yes?“ The prince asks hopefully.

There's a loud exhale. „I don't think it's the brightest idea, Highness. But yes.“ 

His heart swells with pride, he has the best negotiation skills. So he mentally high-fives himself, bids Ignis goodbye and hurries out. He has interrupted enough, besides he has a lot of research to do. Noctis can't help grinning stupidly all the way to his apartment. 

By the time he gets home his cheeks are hurting.

-*-

As it turns out coming up with a plan is a slight exaggeration. Noctis stares blankly at his computer screen for an eternity at a loss for what to do. It's not exactly that there's a written manual on how to convince your friends and family that you are in love with your chamberlain for dummies. If Noctis survives this whole escapade, he's going to write and publish one himself. It's going to save lives someday.

Having lost a staring contest with the moogle search bar, he types out a couple of ideas to no avail. Internet's no help at all. Then he has half a mind to call Ignis and ask for advice (again, the level of dependence should start to worry him by this point), but he doesn't want to give his friend the pleasure of seeing the prince fail so quickly. And Noctis is a lot of things but he's not a quitter, especially when his life literally depends on it.

 _Obvious signs that a guy is in love with you_ , he types out and snorts loudly. That's the most ridiculous thing he has ever done (except this one time he and Prompto made a bet on how many photos of Gladio's butt the blond could capture on camera in one day. It was twenty-three and it was kind of hilarious to see the big guy getting his revenge. And it was technically Prompto's idea, so it doesn't count anyway). Turns out there is an article that is somewhat helpful. „Eleven Signs that a guy's into you.“

Noctis reads through it quickly, hovering over bolded parts and skipping everything else because he's not in the mood for memoirs of a 12-year-old girl. The text focuses on body language, eye contact and the concept of personal space. This he can definitely work with, it's not exactly rocket science. So he basically needs to be all over Ignis, gazing lovingly into his eyes, smiling like a loon at whatever the other man says. Easy and painless, piece of cake.

Noctis prints the page out, leaving it on his desk to bring his accomplice up to speed later. Then he takes a languid shower, scrubbing off at his skin profusely to rid himself of a long day's exhaustion. Afterwards, smelling like his lavender soap and crispy fresh clothes, he decides on a lazy evening with whatever crappy TV-show is presently on. He'd be up for Bachelor, out of all the mindless pseudo-cultural entertainment shows it's his favourite, not that he'll ever admit it if anyone asks, except maybe his best buddy Prompto who already knows all of his darkest secrets.

He only thinks of the conversation from earlier in passing, scratching its surface briefly, and locks it firmly behind a wall he builds in his mind. Mulling over it would do him no good. And he's not particularly eager to work himself into another panic attack. Besides he has a bullet-proof plan now anyway.

He's lying spread all over his couch channel-surfing when he hears his doorbell ring. Noctis groans exasperatingly, wishing for whoever that is to magically go away, but after a third ring gives up all hope and makes himself move, shuffling his feet to the door. It's Prompto, of freaking course.

„Hey, buddy, up for a Monster Hunter evening with your best friend?“ The blond proclaims inviting himself in, shoving past Noctis like it's a normal thing to do. All joking aside, the prince needs to reconsider his life choices and find himself new friends in the process.

Noctis closes the door with a soft click. „I was thinking more of vegging out in front of the TV. All by myself.“ He accentuates the last part and pads into the living room, making a point of not waiting up.

„Alright,“ Prompto shrugs, gleefully slapping his prince's butt on his way to the couch. Arguable life choices, right there. „I'm up for anything, bud! What's on?“ He adds. And no, his friend can't get a hint even if it stabs him in the eye.

With a resigned shrug Noctis flops down beside him. Prompto smells like he's been working out or training with Gladio and then spontaneously dropping by, which unfortunately wouldn't be the first time. His usually perfectly styled blond hair is sticking every which way, slightly wet and sweaty. 

“So what have you been up to lately?“ The blond asks.

„Not much. Hey, wanna take a shower at my place?“ Noctis suggests nonchalantly, he doesn't outright say that his friend stinks, but the allusion is clear. 

Prompto sniffs his damp sleeveless shirt. „Yeah, good idea.“

„You know where it is.“ Noctis sees Prompto off and changes a channel and what do you know, there's a re-run of Avengers: Infinity War, which he's still bitter and despondent about. He was so excited about the premiere, chewing his friends' ears off for weeks. He bought four tickets for the opening night to share the experience with them (Ignis maintained a pretence of only indulging his prince, but Noctis knows better than that) only to crawl out of the cinema devastated and heart-broken three hours later. He still can't believe they dared to kill Loki off in the first five minutes in. „I'll be here if you need anything,“ he shouts over the sound of running water.

Noctis deliberates if he should whip up something to eat in the meantime or opt for munching on chips and other junk food instead. Ignis hasn't been to his place since last week-end so there are no pre-made food containers in his fridge at this point, and he's been too tired to cook. 

On screen it looks like Thanos has obtained his second infinity stone already, if Thor's lifeless body floating through space is anything to go by. At least Noctis isn't required to re-watch the most violent heart-wrenching death scene again. After having been picked up by the Guardians' ship some time later, the God of Thunder is all too comfortable cracking jokes like he hasn't just lost the most important person in his life to a giant purple grape. Noctis huffs in annoyance and turns the TV off. It's then that he realizes Prompto's taking a rather long time cleaning himself up. „Prom,“ he calls out.

There is moment of silence. „In here,” his voice's coming from Noctis' office down the hall. That's odd.

The prince makes his way over only to be confronted with his friend staring at a piece of paper in his hand. „What are you--“ _Oh no, not this piece of paper_ , his panicked mind adds, trying to come up with a quick explanation. „Wh-- what are you doing?“ 

Prompto looks at him funny, the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks and Noctis struggles to not follow suit. So he busies himself with flowers that look perfectly fine in a pot on his desk. In fact not even a petal is out of order, if you could believe that (courtesy of Ignis, no doubt in his mind).

„I was just-- Noct, why do you have that?“ His friend inquires suspiciously and Noctis finally dares a glance in his direction. His mind is racing and yet there is not a half-rational idea to put a stop to this ridiculous interrogation.

„It's nothing,“ the prince says brushing him off. He snatches the damn sheet of paper from Prompto's meddling hands. „Just some stuff for a friend.“ He makes a painful face at how obviously half-baked the lie is. He should've come clean instead of standing there, acting like a criminal busted in the middle of a crime scene. Why is he being so weird about it anyway?

Prompto arches a curious eyebrow, uneasiness written all over his face. “Okay, buddy. Just-- if you need to talk, I'm here,“ the blond promises, giving him a reassuring nudge. Despite his unfounded embarrassment Noctis appreciates the sentiment all the same. 

It's getting into uncharted territory, they don't have heart-to-hearts, not that there's anything to talk about in the first place. So the prince shakes his head and tries to come up with a witty response to clear the air, but his silence stretches out for far too long.

„Now how about a Monster Hunter then?“ Prompto suggests, shoving a damp towel in Noctis' shaking hands. „We still have Behemoth's ass to kick.“

And just like that the spell is broken.

-*-

The bar is packed full like on every Saturday night, and Noctis feels too wired to handle a noisy place. He's suggested on more occasion than one, they should start looking for some other spots for their bi-weekly gatherings. But it serves the best beer in the whole of Lucis (Gladio's words and an overstatement at that), so they keep the tradition intact, small tables and uncomfortable benches notwithstanding. At this point they would need to sit in each other's lap if they want to squeeze themselves in. And though it would definitely get the required idea across, Noctis is not trying to fake-date half of the crowd, thank you very much.

„Noct, you coming?“ Gladio asks, hitting him lightly on the back of his head, and the prince realizes he's been spacing out right in the middle of the bar.

They get a table in the farthest corner, their usual one, with wonky legs and poor lighting which serves a purpose of separating them from the crowd. Though nobody really pays him no mind these days, his royal origins too much of a burden, with lots of strings attached. He knows it from personal experience. Back when he was in high school and tried his hand at dating or, hell, even finding friends, him having descended from Kings had always backfired in most unpleasant and unpredictable ways. And then there was always someone after his name, which has lessened his expectations to a larger extent. Until he gave up on trying entirely, not that there's anyone worth his time anyway.

He supposes, Prompto is really a lucky exception which only proves the rule. Noctis glances at his his friend, who sits there with a pensive look, strangely quiet, so Noctis nudges him with an elbow. „Everything alright, dude?“

„Yeah, sure,“ the blond says, but his eyes don't match his words. The prince makes a mental note to get to the bottom of it when it's just the two of them. „Are you?“

Noctis is a man on a mission and his mission is running late. „Of course.“ He gazes around, no sign of Ignis yet. His future advisor will run himself to the ground with all the amount of work he's buried himself in. It's like he's trying to conquer the world by the time he's turned thirty. The prince hardly sees him these days, a random run-in at the Citadel (aka Noctis stalking him in his office when he's bored out of his skull, which is _not_ every day) or a Saturday afternoon at the prince's apartment when all Ignis does is puttering around the kitchen and stocking up Noctis' fridge. Sometimes they watch a movie and have a dinner together afterwards if Ignis feels especially charitable (or Noctis begs especially hard), and then it's the four of them here once in a fortnight, and Ignis is late.

„Apologies, I am here!“ There's the man in question if his distinct accent is any indication at all.

Noctis immediately scooches over, leaving a vacant spot beside him, which Ignis takes no questions asked. He presses himself closer to his chamberlain and puts a hand on the small of his back, earning a confused look from the other man. “Just play along, Specs,“ he leans further in, whispering in his ear, „I'll explain later.“ Damn, Ignis smells great, his scent leaving a faint trace of cedarwood and pine cones and it tickles his nose. He bets the man hasn't even changed, showing up straight from the office, pulling off the whole dishevelled office-worker look like a pro, whereas mortal people like Noctis sweat and stink and look like hell and it's not fair.

„What took you so long, Iggy?“ Gladio has somehow managed to get himself a beer already. When did that happen? Oh, Noctis has one in front of him too.

Ignis gulps down half a mug and lets out a heavy breath like he's been running for miles to get here on foot, and licks away foam sticking to his lips. “I had to get a couple of reports done for the early Monday meeting. Hence I wouldn't need to go back and finish them tomorrow.“

„Yeah, about that. Haven't seen you out training for quite some time. Wanna go out for a spar? I'll go easy on you.“

Ignis fixes his glasses with deliberation, shooting daggers in Gladio's direction. „I can still outplay you, Gladiolus.“ And he probably would, his chamberlain maybe is a pencil pusher by choice, but he's deadly with daggers. Quick, effective, graceful. Noctis misses seeing him in battle.

The shield smirks at that. “Wanna bet?”

“You name it.“

„Deal,“ Gladio downs his beer. „I'm gonna get another one.“

Noctis sees him off and then shoots Prompto a studying look. The blond's playing with his camera, cheeks pink and giggling, he's always been a lightweight. At least he's in a seemingly better mood now.

As soon as Gladio's back with another round of drinks, the prince focuses on the task at hand. _Step one._ He presses his body into Ignis' (not that there was any space between them in first place), casually putting his arm on the small of his back. For a split second Ignis stiffens, but then his mind seems to catch up, and he relaxes into the touch.

„Oh man, look at this cutie!“ Prompto exclaims shoving his camera into Gladio's face. „Isn't he adorable?“

Gladio hums in response.

 _Step two._ Noctis fixes his gaze on his chamberlain, propping his chin in the palm of his free hand. Prompto is telling a story about a green chocobo he found wandering the streets of Insomnia. “We did a quick photo-sesh and then I took him to Wiz,“ his friend reveals. „I wanted to adopt him so bad, man! Why can't I take one home with me?“ And then he starts singing the Chocobo song, it's strangely off-key and ridiculous, and Ignis smiles at that, a dimple-cheeked smile. It suits him, he should do it more often, Noctis thinks. His skin isn't that perfect up close, it has barely visible small indentations. Where they always there? Curious. And his nose has this little bump which isn't normally all too obvious cause of the glasses. His lashes are kind of long and thick the way they brush over his skin when he blinks. And his lips are plump and rosy, it turns out, when they're moving. Especially when they're moving. „Noct?“ Oh.

„Huh?“

„Prompto asks if you want to get something to eat.“ Ignis clarifies in a low voice, green eyes shining with something the prince can't classify. 

All at once Noctis realizes, he's basically draped over him, breathing each other's air, and hastily he untangles himself, feeling hot and freezing all over. „Right,“ he clears his throat, „Yeah. You can order whatever, I'm gonna go get some air.“ He doesn't wait for an acknowledgement from either of them, just hurries outside like a man possessed.

It's dark and chilly, a fresh breeze is a welcome change to the stuffy and smelly air indoors. He inhales it with full force, letting it clear his wandering mind. No wonder he feels jittery and dizzy. Drinking all this beer on an empty stomach might not have been his brightest decision. Far away a little voice in his head tells him, he hasn't had that much. Noctis runs both hands through his hair. It's getting longer, he's got to cut it sometime. 

„You need company there, bud?“ 

Noctis nearly jumps out of his skin. Way to give a guy heart attack in his early twenties. „Sure,“ he says instead and winks at his friend, covering up uneasiness that crawls under his skin.

Prompto bumps their shoulders together. „What's on your mind?“

„I'm fine, just--“ Noctis tries, shaking his head. If he's honest, it's getting a little bit cold for a tee and cargo pants he's thrown earlier on. A very princely attire, for the record. „So,“ he rubs his upper arms to create some artificial warmth. „Are you having a good time? Something you maybe want to talk about?“ He desperately needs a change of subject, to get into his blond friend's head instead.

Prompto considers it for a second frowning. „No, not really.“ Then he contemplates some more. „Although--“ he lights up and Noctis holds his breath. „Did you see those amazing photos on the back wall? Those are sick! I wonder who the photographer is-- oh wait, it's me!“

Noctis chuckles a little. At times like this he's very grateful to have a friend like him. „Let's just go back in, Prompto.“

When they get back, there's a grease money's schnitzel sandwich waiting for him, slightly cold but still a delicacy nonetheless. He used to stealthily treat himself to it every now and then on a lunch break at school. As it turns out not so stealthily after all. He brushes his hand over Ignis' in silent gratitude and savages his food like a starving man.

They get another round of drinks, Prompto swoons about a girl named Cindy, who works at Hammerhead and knows her way around cars, his tongue getting convincingly loose. According to him, she's gorgeous like Aphrodite, strong like an amazon and smart like-- well, basically Ignis. And Prompto is hopelessly in love, which he accentuates at least four times for the ones in the back. Call it a hunch, but it sounds to Noctis a lot like he's overcompensating. „I'm gonna ask her out, guys,“ he says, dopey smile fooling no one (try as he might) and Gladio chuckles and messes Prompto's hair. This elicits an undignified cry of protest from the blond and an elbow to the Shield's ribs. And then the war is on.

Noctis shakes his head at his friends and peeks at his future advisor from under his too long bangs. The man is trying to judge them so hard but a delightful quirk of his mouth betrays his intentions. The prince can't help reaching out to take Ignis' hand, squeezing it gently like an unvoiced promise. He doesn't know what he promises yet, but it feels like a right thing to do.

-*-

His father invites him to a dinner at his quarters, just the two of them. Such an invitation is a rare occasion lately what with the king being busy with Lucis' internal and foreign affairs. Niflheim is aware of king Regis declining health and uses it to their advantage if the increasing assaults and general aggression are anything to go by. His father claims it's all superficial at the moment and nothing to worry about, but if his prominent absence in Noctis' personal life is any indication, the king withholds the whole truth.

Ignis is working his butt off at the Citadel on a daily basis. And granted, he isn't involved in any foreign politics yet, but the prince is convinced that his future advisor knows a lot more than he lets on. Not that they talk about it more than is strictly necessary.

Noctis has a bad premonition what goes for the dinner summons out of the blue. He suspects he's out of time and there might be nothing he can do. Royal blood is not something one can run away from and if the king commands, Noctis will have no other choice in the matters but to obey, and he prays to Gods as hard as he can.

Out of sheer panic he asks to bring Ignis along during his phone call with his dad. And after a short pause on the other end, he gets an „Of course, son,“ and he can practically see the king rolling his eyes, like he shouldn't have needed to ask to begin with. It's not like him and his chamberlain are attached at the hip. „I would be glad.“ 

So he shoots a quick message to Ignis and gets a call back with a milliseconds lay-off.

„Please tell me it's not what I think it is,“ Ignis announces as soon as Noctis picks up. „You don't honestly expect me to lie to the King!“

That particular thought hasn't exactly crossed his mind and he doesn't want to put in jeopardy his chamberlain's warm trusting relationship with his father. Though if they're keeping up the charade, it includes lying to everyone with no exception. Noctis huffs in frustration and gets up from his chair, striding across the room to looks out of the open window. It's sunny and relatively warm, but the first yellow leaves indicate the last days of summer. He breathes in deeply, gaining himself a moment to contemplate. „Ignis,“ he pleads, voice hardly audible to his own ears. „I have no choice.“

Maybe it's the desperation in his voice that does the trick or his chamberlain only puts up a facade, but „Right,“ he says on the other end and Noctis closes his eyes with relief. If they survive this, he's going to be indebted to his future advisor for life and no amount of expensive gift-buying is going to cut it, that he's aware of. But he's strangely okay with paying back, whatever the price. „Just let me do this on my own terms.“

„Yeah, Specs. Want me to pick you up?“

“Don't be late.“

Dinner at his father's is an informal event. And while his friend dresses himself up to the nines (not that he ever looks anything less) like he stepped down from a cover of the latest issue of GQ, Noctis throws on jeans and a black tee he's already worn this week, but it doesn't smell funny and he's personally checked, so who is the judge. There aren't any servants tonight, pouring him wine when his glass is half empty or asking every other time if he's ready for dessert. This is probably what he despises about being royalty most of all.

Upon arriving he finds his dad sitting comfortable in a red velvet armchair by lit up fireplace, a glass of red wine in his hand. He doesn't get up right away, just nods curtly at them, and Ignis bows his head. „Your Majesty.“ 

The king gives them permission to take a seat at the table, so his chamberlain starts fretting with setting it up.

„None of that tonight, Ignis, you're my guest.“ His father gets up and lays a hand to stop him and puts himself to the task instead. As if tonight he's just a father, not their king. Then with a smile splitting his face in half he hugs his son.

They have grilled wild baramundi with veggies on the side (because Regis is a stubborn king who doesn't know when to give up). But with not much pretence in a nondescript way, Noctis piles them up on his chamberlain's plate like he usually does. He doesn't even get a stink eye from his dad, and Ignis, ever the gentleman, doesn't blink twice.

„So, what's the occasion?“ The prince asks, shoving another piece of fish in his mouth. He half expects his father (or rather his friend, who is too proper and well-mannered and can't loosen up for anything in the world) to scold him for talking with his mouth full. And there it is, green eyes glaring at him judging him hard. Noctis can't help himself giggling at how ridiculously predictable Ignis really is.

Regis has an affectionate smile on his face when Noctis returns his attention to the king. „Can't I just want to spend some time with my son?“

„So there's nothing you want to talk to me about?“ He asks disbelievingly and steals a bite off of Ignis' plate. The fish is exquisitely done and he hasn't eaten all day.

„Highness!“ His chamberlain hisses but doesn't put up much protest otherwise. „Pardon, Your Majesty.“ He adds, a blush on his cheeks. Noctis can't remember if he's ever seen Ignis be so out of sorts before. He's kind of cute.

„Don't worry, Ignis, I know my son all too well.“ His dad stands at that and pours himself another helping of wine offering it to his guests, which they both decline respectfully. „So, how are you doing, Noctis?“

„Same, I guess.“

His father nods. „How's work?“

Noctis picks up at the table cloth, twisting in his hands, still apprehensive that this might not be just a social call. He looks at the king trying to gauge where this discussion leads. It hits him without warning how weary and old the man looks, weight of all his burdens written all over his wrinkly face. And he would do anything to smoothe out at least one line on his face. „It's fine.“

Picking up on a change of his mood, Ignis lays a hand on his thigh squeezing gently. „He's been doing great, Majesty, you would be proud.“

„I always am.“ His father tells. „Does he treat you well, Ignis?“

„Dad!“ Noctis cuts in before his chamberlain has a chance to open his mouth. And then the hand is removed and in the back of his mind Noctis is dimly aware that he didn't dislike it being there at all. Unconsciously he moves closer till their thighs are touching and just like that he feels grounded and safe.

They talk about work for a bit. Then his dad produces a kupoberry cheesecake out of thin air and pours them both a cup of black coffee. Noctis hasn't exactly developed a taste for it, but he gives it a try every damn time and no one except Prompto knows this about him. So he swallows the whole thing down in one go disguising the bitter taste with a mouthful of delicious cake.

They bid their goodbyes a couple of hours and four coffees later (it's a wonder Ignis doesn't have caffeine jitters at his point), when Noctis is riding a high and for the first time he believes, he's going to be alright.

It doesn't occur to him, not once, that primarily they had a mission to accomplish, but some time along the way it's just slipped his mind.

-*-

There are two thick files on his desk when he arrives at work on Monday, shiny purple post-it tabs marking half of the pages. Noctis sighs heavily opening the first one. Half of the text is highlighted with a marker. Someone wants him dead or debilitated by the time he's turned twenty-three. But he extricates himself from a thick wool scarf he had to dig out of his closet this morning and takes off his gloves. It's gotten colder in a short span of time. Just yesterday he was basking in sunlight and today he's glad he hasn't frozen his butt off. But October is still his favourite month of the year.

He makes himself a hot cup of peppermint tea when there's no one around to judge him for it. Then he rearranges his desk, it looks too organized for his liking and opens the curtains to let some light in. There's a text from Prompto asking if he's already bought a new Monster Hunter DLC, he has been meaning to answer since yesterday, and now he has a perfect excuse to do so. Anything to procrastinate.

 _Not yet_ , he types out. _But I heard it has new awesome challenges, wanna come for a sesh on Friday?_

He stares at his phone for a minute waiting for a reply till the screen goes dark and then puts it away reluctantly. Those files won't read themselves. Then Noctis takes a mouthful of his tea, it smells divine. And opens the first file. 

He's three pages in when there's a beep. _Deal._ Prompto must be busy if he's not writing half a novel via text-messaging. His friend studies photography now and has a part-time job doing various shoots for Vyv all over Lucis. And if Noctis is honest with himself, he's a little bit jealous of freedom and control his best friend has over his life, but dwelling on things he can't have isn't in his nature.

Noctis is done with the first file by lunch. He has even managed not to fall asleep with how captivating and intriguing the content of it is. But to be fair, he's got the point pretty well and has even made a couple of notes in the margins and underlined text passages he needs to talk to Ignis about later, when his stomach doesn't scream at him digesting itself.

Speaking of, the prince is quite sure, his future advisor hasn't eaten anything yet either. He tends to neglect his health since he's taken over the job full-time. And Noctis considers it his responsibility to make sure he doesn't live off Ebony day after day.

He barges into Ignis' office when the man pours himself another cup.

„Noct, did you forget how to knock?“ 

„It didn't disturb you before.“ The prince responds taking a notice of various books and papers spread all over the desk. „Let's go, we are getting lunch at your favourite place.“

There's a fleeting sign of interest on Ignis' face till he's back to his normal composed self. „It's a rather bad time.“ He makes a point by getting another crumbly old book from a shelf, burying his nose in it. 

Noctis isn't having any of it. He marches up to the other man, makes a scene of bluntly slamming the damn book closed, then takes his hand pulling him to his feet. „Don't forget your coat, it's chilly.“

„Is it an order, Highness?“ Ignis asks taking his coat and scarf off a rack. There's a smile that crinkles his skin around green eyes, a row of perfect white teeth and Noctis is suddenly hit with a memory of their night at the bar. An unexpected intense urge to find out just how close he needs to get to smell an unmistakable scent of cedarwood and pine cones off of his friend's skin. „You alright, Noct?“ 

The prince winces involuntarily, startled out of his reverie. What? He shakes his head. „Yeah.“

He doesn't dwell on any of it on their way to the Mother of Pearl. Just lets Ignis drive them gazing out the window at picturesque landscapes of Lucis to the sound of „Stand By Me“coming out of the speakers. There's a griffon flying in the skies above them. He remembers killing one for a feather not so long ago to make some extra gil on the side. And though his family is loaded, he prefers earning his own money just like everybody else does, it makes him fell normal for a change. And hunting jobs help him stay in shape anyway. Apart from his training with Gladio, which doesn't have the same effect since he knows all of his shield's moves and tricks (he'd like to believe so at least).

„Wanna go hunting sometime again, Specky?“ 

„Short on cash, Highness?“ Damn, he just knows his prince too well. That, and other selfish reasons he's not ready to get to the bottom of yet. „Lunch's on me today then. But generally, yes.“

Noctis picks out over his scarf at the man. „Don't worry, it's fine. You can pay another time.“

„Are we making a habit of it?“ Ignis takes a sharp turn, engine roaring under them and Noctis holds on to his seat for dear life. He doesn't dignify him with a reply due to Regalia pulling to a stop in the parking lot.

They have a quick meal and talk about much simpler old days. When the only responsibility the prince had was not to screw up his grades at school and die in a battle too soon (bless phoenix feathers on more occasion than one). He misses those days profusely. Then by the way Ignis reveals that Gladio has apparently been dating someone for a while. And Noctis feels offended no one's considered to share this information with him. 

He's sullen and pouting the whole time afterwards and on the way back to work, although there's absolutely no good reason for it.

Noctis flings himself into work and gets everything done by four o'clock. Then he orders the DLC online and adds a customary 24-pieces cutlery set to the cart for free shipping purposes only. Then he checks his twitter account to keep himself otherwise occupied. Prompto has posted a picture he doesn't remember him shooting, the four of them jammed together to get in the shot. They look tipsy and happy and smiling and the prince downloads it to his phone just because.

Then it dawns on him that Ignis has indeed paid for their lunch after all. Noctis smiles at his computer screen, he might know just the thing to pay him back.

-*-

Noctis gets hit hard in the face and falls down like a sack of potatoes. He groans at that out of sheer frustration. Sometimes he wonders for whose benefit they still train every Wednesday or so. Gladiolus is the head of Kingsguard now, position he's taken after his father Clarus resigned a couple of months ago. And he wears the title with pride. He has young glaives to train and a long line of new recruits to harass the hell out of if he as much as wishes to. Maybe he just enjoys embarrassing his prince (scratch that, he definitely enjoys it).

Noctis gets up, ultima blade appearing in his hand and lunges forward with full force. But his shield is hard to overwhelm and he easily blocks the blow. 

„You are thinking too hard,“ Gladio says, trying to land another attack but Noctis warps out of the way, which leads to Gladiolus slashing his heavy double-handed sword through empty air. „And now you're just cheating.“

The prince lets his blade disappear. „And you didn't tell me you've been seeing someone.“

They jump at each other, metal on metal clinking hard, neither gives in. „You didn't ask.“ And then his friend knocks out the floor under his feet. Noctis can hear his back cracking when his body hits solid ground.

„Who's cheating now!“ The prince exclaims and Gladio gives him a hand to pull him up.

They spar for a while dancing around each other and Noctis strikes him good on occasion or two. His whole body hurts and there are some impressive bruises developing all over his left upper arm. His knee is popping and there's a joint in his neck that feels jammed up.

„Tell Iggy I can't wait to kick his ass too,“ the shield says when they take a break on a bench.

Noctis gives him a look. „Tell him yourself. Aren't you best pals these days?“ Even to his own ears he sounds petty but he doesn't give a damn.

„Jealous much?“

They pass a bottle of fresh water between them and the prince massages his calf. He's going to be sore tomorrow. „Why would I be jealous?“

His shield looks at him funny, arches a brow, unreadable expression on his face. “Me and my date-- We broke up, by the way.“

„Oh,“ Noctis says wincing. He shouldn't have acted so insensitive and self-centred earlier, but that ship has sailed. „I'm sorry.“

„Don't be. I tried, but--,“ Gladio snorts, seemingly deliberating whether the truth is worth revealing at all. „It was for the wrong reasons, I guess.“ Then he tosses the bottle away, shaking his head like he's said too much, wipes sweat off his face with a towel and magics his double-handed sword. „Ready for round two?“

Noctis groans loudly. He hates his friends, but his traitorous heart swells in his chest nevertheless.

-*-

It's some time later that it's announced, a delegation from Tenebrae is coming on a visit. The news reaches Noctis at an inopportune moment, when after an unspectacular and uneventful streak of days he's finally able to breathe again without looking over his shoulder and expecting to be stabbed in the back. And he realizes he's been foolish enough to be lulled into complacency and led to believe, the threat to his freedom has passed.

Apparently, after long negotiations with King Nox Fleuret about a treaty that would benefit both sides, an official meeting in Insomnia is to be held. And if a solution to increased aggression from their common enemy, Niflheim, is to be found, this could be one of the most significant steps in the history of their kingdom.

The whole Citadel begins preparing accommodations for their guests. Appointments are being made, entertainment events are being arranged and everybody has a part to play.

The king, his two children and their retinue arrive later that afternoon and head straight for the hotel to take a rest after a long voyage. 

Noctis can't sleep a wink that night. He tosses and turns, dreaming of fighting giant demons, an eternal darkness that befalls Eos and sets its terrifying creatures free, and total chaos that subdues their people with a power of an invisible force. The dream feels too real, making him wake up in cold sweat, only to repeat itself over and over again.

In the early morning, still lying in his bed bone-tired and groggy, he gets a call from his dad. The prince opens an eye, head heavy and pounding due to the lack of adequate sleep. „Hello?” He mutters into the phone.

„Did I wake you, son?“

Noctis scratches his face, blinking sleep from his eyes. „Yeah?“ He doesn't even know what time it is or whether he's been woken up or resurrected from the dead.

There's a sigh on the other end. „I'm having a conference at the Citadel with King Nox Fleuret that is expected to be rather long. So I have a request, Noct. He has a young daughter who's roughly your age. Would you be so kind to accompany her, show her around?“

There it is, his freedom. How noble of them to let them get to know each other better first. And suddenly Noctis is mad. The sheer audacity with which they are trying to pool the wool over his eyes. He wonders if his father's playing a part or is he truly unaware what's being set up behind his back. „Why would I do that?“ He can't keep irritation out of his voice.

„Noct,“ the king says tiredly. „You know I love you, but it's time to grow up.“

The prince purses his lips and nods, though no one can see him. For one, he can't escape his fate. „Fine.“ Fully awake now he fixes his gaze on the ceiling, willing himself not to cry and his heart to stop trying to beat out of his chest.

„I'll let her come get you at your office then.“

Noctis puts his phone away. He doesn't throw it at the wall which is a grown-up thing to do. He's mad, but he's mad at himself. He just needs to concentrate his anger on dealing with the issue at hand, instead of lying around, feeling sorry for himself. If they want a war, he's bringing his best weapon.

So he untangles himself from the over-knotted mess of sheets on his bed, takes a thorough shower and pulls out his best suit. It's sleek and black and Ignis says it makes the blue of his eyes stand out. Then Noctis takes his sweet time styling his hair to perfection.

It's half past seven when he throws the door open, storming in. „Have you seen Princess Lunafreya?“ he ask his chamberlain.

Ignis blinks at him tilting his head. „Yes.“

„They are making me do it, aren't they?“ It's a rhetorical question, he's certain of it. Or rather one his friend has no grasp on. You never know with him and his poker face is often hard to read.

Ignis just stares at him for a bit. “Are they?“

Noctis shakes his head. „Remember how you promised to be my fake-boyfriend?“ A nervous chuckle escapes him. He can't help a sly smile creeping up on his face, snorting trying to hold it in and covers his mouth with a hand.

His friend nods, a little upturn of his sensual mouth betraying his attempts at being all serious and composed. „So what do you suggest, Highness?“

“We don't have time to be convincing, she might be here any minute, so just-- we need to really go for it.“

Ignis arches a brow at him. „And that would be?“

„Improvisation, Specs. Now pack your stuff, I need you in my office yesterday.“ With that Noctis turns on his heals and strides out the door not looking back for confirmation.

He manages to get his coffee maker going (the one he never uses unless there's Ignis involved), clears out half of his desk. Then he recalls a stack of papers and various books strewn all over his chamberlain's work place and clears out the other half as well. He is fully aware he's not going to be able to get any work done, so he might as well watch his future advisor be the responsible one. Then he sorts through his own drawers while he's at it, just to kill the time. Who knew how many junky old stuff he has gathered since he's takes permanent residence at the Citadel. 

It's when he's pouring water over his plants on the windowsill (the ones he hasn't once touched), that Ignis deigns to finally show up.

„I see you've been keeping yourself busy,“ he says unloading his possessions on Noctis' desk. Then he looks around. „What are you going to do while I work?“

Noctis shrugs his shoulders. „Nothing, I guess.“

„So you're going to creepily stare at me like you always do.“ His friend tells matter-of-factly no judgement in his voice. It doesn't look like he minds it much. Also there's not been any creepily staring involved whatsoever.

Noctis flaps on the sofa and gets his phone out. An hour of catching up on King's Knight would do him no harm. And it will help him take his mind off of things.

He endures exactly twenty-six minutes until he pockets his phone bored out of his skull. Ignis has his head in a book, lips moving with whatever he reads. His hair is hanging down over his eyes and he brushes it away every now and then. He stops to scribble a few lines on a scrap sheet until he repeats the whole process again. It's kind of fascinating to witness.

„You're staring again, Highness,“ Ignis says without looking away from his work. 

The prince is about to retort with something along the lines of _that's an outright lie_ , when there's a knock at the door.

„Come in,“ Noctis calls out, swallowing sudden dryness in his throat.

A young woman comes in, a humble blue-ish pleated coat, long blond hair put into a ponytail, ordinary and normal at first glance, like she doesn't belong here at all. And for all her plainness, she exudes confidence, possesses grace and innate ability to dominate the room, that her royal nature can't be mistaken for something else. „Prince Noctis, my name is Luna.“ She bobs a curtsy at him and both men abruptly get up and bow their heads.

„Please call me Noct. And this is my-- Ignis.“ The prince rushes to his chamberlain's side, heart hammering in his chest partially terror, partially anticipation. He's suddenly at a loss for what to say or do. Some improviser he is.

„Ignis Scientia, Your Royal Highness,“ his friend adds a lot more eloquent, calm and confident and relaxed.

The princess smiles amiably. „No need to be formal, please call me Luna.“

It's Luna's first visit as it turns out. So they talk about where to spend their day, world-renowned attractions the princess has heard all about and read in books as a child and since then desires to see. She tells about her land, lush and green, eyes shining with pride. “I hope you two could pay us a visit one day,“ she adds, a radiant smile emanating from her. And Noctis struggles very hard to hate her, be he can't force himself to. He wonders if she even knows what's going on and feels sorry for her. „Oh, and when you do, you have to try out our national dish-- well, it's more of a desert.“ 

“Is it the one with ulwaat berries, by any chance?“ His future advisor asks. It looks a lot like he's squirming, but Ignis never squirms.

„Oh yes, that's the one, have you tried it?“

„I've been unsuccessfully trying to replicate it for quite some time, but I never get it just right,“ his friend adds, a tone of desperation in his voice. 

And then it clicks. „When we were children, you brought it to me from Tenebrae, haven't you? I don't remember the taste, but I remember loving them so much.“ He smiles at the memory, the two of them savouring the desert under a blanket in Noctis' quarters, lights dim, only a candle illuminating his room. Ignis wasn't supposed to be sleeping in his bed anymore, they were getting too grown-up for that, but he sneaked in every other night nevertheless.

„I wanted to make them for you myself,“ his chamberlain admits, never meeting his eyes.

„I know what you mean,“ Luna says, winking at Ignis, like they share a secret Noctis isn't privy to. „I'll get the recipe for you, if you get me one of yours.“

And so they talk about best Lucian dishes for her to try out in a short span of time, Ignis feeling himself immediately at home if his eternal monologue on different delicious kinds of fish and meat is anything to go by. And the princess listens to him closely, interested in every word.

„If you want to get lunch, I think you better head out,“ his chamberlain suggests and Noctis' stomach growls at that right on cue. And all three of them can't help laughing.

„You'll still be here when I'm back?“ The prince asks at a loss for what the protocol is in situations like that. He stands awkwardly by his desk, feeling his face getting hot. On a whim and without a second thought he bends over to kiss Ignis' cheek (that's what boyfriends do when they part, right?), but his friend turns his head, so Noctis plants a kiss on a corner of Ignis' mouth instead and panics so hard, that he jerks away, looses his balance, and almost face-plants on the floor. If it's weird as hell, thank God no one comments on it. So he turns around and does his best to walk away with as much dignity as he can muster.

„I'll be here, Noct,“ his chamberlain says, but Noctis can't bring himself to turn around and meet his eyes.

-*-

They take Regalia and drive straight to Galdin Quay. On a cold autumn day it isn't much crowded, and when they get inside, the choice of tables is practically free. So they situate themselves by a window that faces the sea. Water has always been able to calm his volatile mind, that's why he finds comfort in fishing, however boring for his company it might be. Though today the waters are perilous due to a fairly strong wind. It's rather suitable.

The princess is intelligent and cultural and chatty, which saves him from fearing tensed silence, minutes feeling like years, desperately trying to fill them in. She tells him about her dreams, aspirations and her older brother supporting her every step of the way. His sacrifices to make sure his sister is never pressured into something she doesn't wish for. Then she dives into a long marvellous story about her dogs and how when she was small, Pryna ran away and Lunafreya believed she'd lost her for good. And then it turned out a chubby young boy had found her dog, all the way up here in Lucis. „I wish I remembered that boy, I am indebted to him,“ she states, eyes shining bright. She looks so happy and genuine and Noctis doesn't want to disappoint her, doesn't dare to break the spell, doesn't know how to. „My fiancé, Nyx, says it was a divine intervention.“

Wait, what? „Your fiancé?“ Noctis asks, baffled, fork hanging in the air halfway to his mouth.

„Yes, the wedding is in two month,“ Luna admits. „Oh my God, this horntooth meat pie is delicious!“ She shoves another piece in, moaning around it like it's the best thing in the world.

Noctis is trying to grasp the pieces of information here and there and put it together, and it just doesn't fit. „You're not marrying me?“ He doesn't mean to blurt it out loud like that.

Lunafreya laughs like it's a hilarious joke. „Why would I do that? No, Your Highness. Besides, you are taken as far as I could tell.“ She winks at him conspiratorially and the prince feels his face getting traitorously red. His stupid skin complexion betraying him in all the inconvenient moments.

„If you excuse me, I need to--“, he indicates with his hand roughly in the direction where restrooms are.

He needs to talk to his father or he is going to explode, but the king is not to be disturbed. So he calls Ignis instead. As soon as the other man picks up, he lurches into the whole story without letting his chamberlain put in a word. He's mumbling, hoping it's coherent enough to grasp the meaning of it.

„Calm down, Noct,“ Ignis says.

Noctis pulls at his hair with his free hand. „I don't understand, Specs. Is there another princess I'm supposed to marry instead?“

For a moment there's just breathing on the other end. „There's not.“ He feels like he's missing something profound, so he holds his breath, waiting for his future advisor to elaborate. „Nor are you to be wed to Princess Lunafreya.“

Noctis' heart skips a bit. „How long did you know?“ He can't believe how calm his voice sounds.

„Since yesterday.“

„And you what,“ he declares, cautiously looking around, he could go without unnecessary attention. „Didn't feel like filling me in? We talked about trust, Scientia, I thought I was clear on that.“ The prince never calls his friend by his surname, but he feels like it's highly deserved. He knows, he should be relieved, happy even, but a knot in the pit of his stomach indicates just the opposite of that.

„I'm sorry, Noct. I was going to after--“

„Don't.“ He doesn't want to talk to him anymore. Anyone for that matter. And empty promises he's tired to hear all the time. If he can't trust his closest friends, there's no need for delusions or vain attempts. So he ends the call and pockets his phone. Now he only needs to find a plausible excuse to exit the scene without revealing the truth or embarrassing himself further. He wishes him and Luna had met under another circumstances, he thinks they might've become friends.

All he can do on his way home is reflect upon the whole turn of events and for the love of him, he can't grasp why it makes his insides churn, the unmistakable feeling of nausea hitting him like a ton of bricks over and over again.

-*-

Noctis doesn't show his face at the Citadel the next day. Or the day after that. Good thing he's the boss' son. He ignores all phone calls letting them go straight to voicemail he doesn't check and doesn't read any messages. It keeps vibrating non-stop, so he eventually just turns it off. He's aware that his behaviour is childish and no reason to abandon his duties or avoid other people who have nothing to do with the stupid situation he has put himself in. In other words, he doesn't want to run into Ignis. Though he knows full well, the chances are entirely dim. So he stays at home, playing video-games and stuffing himself with all sorts of food, demonstrably picking out veggies and throwing them away.

He's two chapters into Tomb Raider, shooting mindlessly at anything that moves, preoccupied with different kinds of things when there's loud banging on his door. The prince silently pleads to be left alone. But no such luck, so he pauses the game and gets the door. It's Prompto, again.

„Not tonight, Prom,“ Noctis tells him, ready to close the door in his face. „I've got stuff to do.“

„Like hell!“ The blond grabs his hand. „I'm not leaving my buddy alone.“

They play Tomb Raider taking turns. Prompto chews his ear off about his classes, new cam he can probably buy in a couple of months if he saves enough money or they go on a hunt. And how long has it been since they killed someone nasty and missing the feeling of guns in his hands and a faint smell of powder after firing a shot. 

Noctis nods at all the right places, letting his friend's voice wash over him.

„Ok, buddy, what's wrong?“ Prompto finally asks when he's apparently had enough of his brooding.

„I'm fine,“ Noctis brushes him off. And deliberately concentrates on getting some impressive head-shots, five in a row, look at that. At least something he's good at, because screwing up his life he can rather royally, pun intended.

„The hell you are!“ The blond exclaims, wrenching controller out of his clammy hands. „You won't get it back till I hear the story.“

The prince huffs in exasperation. “There is no story,“ he says. 

„Aha.“

Noctis rolls his eyes and reluctantly gets up to get two beers out of the fridge. „I'm gonna need to be drunk for that.“ He tosses one bottle at his friend and drowns the other one in roughly one go. Then pulls himself another one out.

He takes his time pacing the floor, getting his thoughts together, then turns back to his spot on the couch. „Remember how you found that paper a while back on my desk?“ He starts. Trouble shared is a trouble halved, right? „Anyway, I was doing research on how to fake-date.“ He takes another mouthful and shakes his head.

Noctis tells him everything in detail, a rumour about a marriage of convenience, conspiring with Ignis and trying to fake it for them all, meeting Princess Lunafreya and finding out there's never been any danger to begin with, and his chamberlain misleading him. „Oh, and I kind of kissed Specs, so-- yeah, there's that.“ He dares a glance at the blond, who's sitting there mouth open and gaping at him. „Please don't laugh,“ he adds, feeling sorry for himself.

“I mean, wow!“ Prompto says after a moment of hesitation, scratching his head. „Did you like it?“

Noctis turns his head so abruptly, his neck nearly snaps. „What?“

„Did you like kissing Iggy?“

„No!“ The prince fidgets in his seat, picking at the sticker on his bottle. He should've gone for something stronger. „Out of everything I've just told you, that's what you've picked up on?

Prompto has a devious smile on his face like he enjoys Noctis' suffering. Knowing his luck, the blond probably does. „Oh I don't know, it sounded like the most important puzzle piece.“

What? „Huh?“

„Why didn't you ask me to be your fake-boyfriend?“ 

„Because it would be weird as hell,“ Noctis reveals like it isn't the most obvious thing. They are brothers from different mothers.

His friend arches an eyebrow giving him a dirty look. Is this supposed to-- Oh. _Oh!_

The night at the bar flashes before his eyes, Ignis' freckles, his long lashes and luscious scent. The warmth of his slender body and brief touch of his plush lips.

It all becomes too clear and suddenly he can't breathe. 

Noctis is screwed.

He is so utterly irrevocably _screwed_. 

„You know, I love you, man, but you're kind of a slowpoke.“ Prompto's voice is a distant noise somewhere far away. „Do you want another round of the game or go make out with Iggy some more?“

The prince chokes on air. He's blushing furiously and alcohol for once has nothing to do with it. „I don't think that's what he wants.“ Avoiding his chamberlain forever seems like the best idea he's ever had, a very tempting one all things considered, though he's starting to doubt his idea-producing abilities. He's embarrassed himself enough for one lifetime, and he'd rather avoid any pitying looks.

„I am quite sure it is,“ Prompto snorts nudging him with his foot.

„How so?“ He doesn't want to hope, hope is a fickle thing.

„For starters, I have eyes. You and Iggy, I am surprised you aren't dating already! You have no concept of personal space. I mean, you practically seat on each other all the time, and the staring, man, it makes me sick!“

Noctis frowns. „It doesn't have to mean anything.“

„Oh, yeah? He basically eats out of your hand!”

What a nonsense thing to say. It's his friend's job to follows orders and do what his charge tells him to. Except for when he's being a stubborn and infuriating human being, insisting on eating healthy food and wearing scarves so as not to catch a cold and applying sunscreen and-- practically everything else. Which, when you think about it, is all the time.

The prince fishes his phone out and turns it on. Thirty-two missed calls and two dozens messages. He doesn't check any of them. He punches Ignis' number which he knows by heart and types out a _Meet me in an hour at our spot in Duscae. Bring a blanket._

He's too drunk and jittery to drive and it's entirely dark outside. But his blond best friend, who's had two sips of beer, is more than happy to oblige.

-*-

They used to come here annually when they were children, sneaking out of the Citadel in the middle of a warm august night during the perseids peak. Noctis always considered it his early birthday present, the one he was eagerly awaiting the most. They would lie on their backs for hours staring at the clear night sky and Ignis would tell him stories of ancient lore and pagan gods. Until at the age of fourteen the prince grew out of it and they stopped coming at all. Going to the arcade with Prompto every day to play games, neglecting school and making Ignis' life hell seemed all of a sudden like a better perspective. It's a miracle his chamberlain stayed by him through all of it.

It's freezing cold today and Noctis hopes that his friend will be here soon, or he might find a dead princely body instead. It would serve him good all things considered.

He doesn't know how long he stays there sitting on a lonesome rock, his fingers feeling numb. He scolds himself for forgetting his gloves. At least his head is clear now.

„You don't look very comfortable, Noct,“ comes a familiar voice behind his back and Noctis' heart leaps like a gazelle. He still musters a smile no one can see.

His chamberlain gets out two heavy blankets and a thermos most likely with coffee, if the prince knows his friend at all. He wouldn't mind the taste right at this moment if it helps to warm him up. His teeth are clattering and he clenches them hard. Maybe it was a dumb idea, even if his intentions were of romantic nature.

„Get in here or you catch a cold,“ he hears and realizes he's spaced out again.

„Not yet, Sp-pecs,“ he says. „Why didn't you t-tell me about Luna?“ Noctis whole body shudders from cold, but he stubbornly stays put.

Ignis gets up from his spot and takes him by the hand leading to their blanket fortress (whenever he's managed to build one). His skin is hot and welcoming and all the prince wants is to soak up every last bit of this warmth into his bones. He only mildly resists to be tugged.

He's being enveloped into strong arms, wrapped into a wool blanket and cared for like he's been since the beginning of time but it feels different now, intense and magnified. „I hope it's alright. And I brought you your favourite tea.“

Noctis chuckles despite himself, shaking his head, snuggles closer heart full of something he doesn't have a name for yet. „Yeah,“ he whispers afraid his own voice would betray him. Then he closes his eyes. „Talk to me.“

„I'm sorry, Noct, I didn't mean to--“ Ignis' face is so close, Noctis feels hot breath tickle his skin. „I was being selfish.“

The prince nods. His own stupid selfishness is what has gotten them into this mess in the first place. And if there's anyone to blame, it would be Noctis himself. „I'm sorry too, Iggy.“ He's really not, not if it leads them here, in each others arms in the middle of the night. And if he doesn't ever open his eyes, he can pretend to be able to stay like this forever.

„Noct--“, Ignis says low and a cold nose brushes against his cheek. „Highness.“

Noctis forgets how to breathe, this little word he used to hate from his friend's expressive mouth, now makes his whole body go rigid, heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He wants him closer but he doesn't know how to move. He wants to hear him say it again, but he doesn't know how to ask.

There's a hand languidly stroking his chest and Noctis is trembling all over and he can't take much more of it. He turns around in Ignis' arms and pushes his chamberlain down with his weight, pulling the blanket over their heads. „Specs, I--“, he blushes profusely, hand finding his friend's face. He's overwhelmed by everything Ignis, coffee, cedarwood, and something that smells like milk and honey fills up his lungs and clouds his mind. He presses his mouth to the other man's plump lips, crumbling under the feeling of finally finding home. Ignis meets him halfway, arms clutching at his coat, pulling him impossibly further down until no one knows where one ends and the other begins.

„If it's a one-time thing, we better stop,“ Ignis murmurs breathless into the kiss. 

„I promise, it's not,“ the prince says, covering his friend's face with soft pecks. “It's not.“

If there's one thing in his tumultuous life he's sure of, fifteen years ago or fifty years from now, in every alternate reality even, it's that whichever path they choose, it undeniably leads them to this moment. Such a basic concept of happiness, it's funny how hard it is to figure it out sometimes. 

„Stay with me,“ Noctis whispers into Ignis' skin.

„Always.“

 

**~The End~**


End file.
